


Fallout

by Twilight Fang (Asthenos)



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hate Crimes, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-17 03:56:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9303122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asthenos/pseuds/Twilight%20Fang
Summary: (Spoilers for everything up until, and including, the Christmas special.)  Lito thought that his career would be the only thing affected by the release of those raunchy photos.  Only with the help of the other sensates will he be able to get himself and Hernando through the terror that follows.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the events that happen in the Christmas special, and by the sad fact that Mexico has not yet become a safe place for a gay man to safely express his love for another man.
> 
> Thanks for taking the time to read my Lito/Hernando obsession-fuelled fic! :) Any and all comments will be greatly appreciated.

_“What about the pictures?”_ Hernando had asked with a mixture of confusion and disbelief when Lito had shown up at his apartment to apologize for choosing his career over the one person who mattered the most in his life.

 

 _“I don’t care. My career is important to me… but it will never be as important as you,”_ Lito had replied sincerely, his face covered in blood and bruises, but his light brown eyes filled with nothing but love. _“I love you,”_ Lito had professed, as he had a million times before.

 

That was all it had taken for Lito to win Hernando back. After a brutish fistfight with a violent, dominating bully, Lito had freed Daniela from her abusive relationship and set things right with Hernando. Although Hernando would never condone violence in any situation, he had been happy to see Daniela released from the clutches of her psychotic ex, as well as relieved that Lito hadn’t been more seriously injured in the altercation. It had also left him wondering what state Lito had left Joaquin in. Hernando had been involved with Lito long enough to know that his lover often had difficulty reigning in his emotions, but he had never suspected that Lito was capable of that much rage and violence. And where had Lito learned how to fight like that?

 

A few weeks had gone by where everything felt as if it were returning to normal. Hernando had gotten a job teaching art history at one of the local universities, and Lito had jumped back into acting once the bruises had faded sufficiently. But that false sense of security had been swiftly yanked away from Hernando the day that Joaquin had leaked those stolen photos on the Internet. It wasn’t like Hernando had doubted that Joaquin would follow through with his threat. He had just chosen not to allow fear and paranoia to rule his life up until that day. Perhaps Joaquin had gotten off on building the suspense, waiting for things to calm down before attacking when they had least expected him to. Whatever Joaquin’s reasons for waiting, his timing had been absolutely dreadful. Whenever Hernando remembered how his class had been interrupted by the secret photo of Lito making love to him being projected at the front of his classroom for everyone to see he felt sick to his stomach.

 

“Are you sure you have to go in today?” Lito asked from where he was watching Hernando, leaning back against the closet door with his arms folded stiffly in front of his chest. His features were apprehensive and his posture wary, like he was preparing for another sneak attack from Joaquin. He also seemed to have no intention of getting dressed because he was still bumming around in his briefs. Lito was a very confident man with an impressive body to match, so it was no wonder that he liked to flaunt what he worked so hard to maintain. Perhaps Hernando might have been a bit more appreciative of Lito’s nudity if he hadn’t been so fixated on getting ready for work.

 

“I’ve barely been in this position for a month,” Hernando said neutrally, picking out a somber-looking brown dressed shirt to wear underneath his grey blazer while Lito tracked his every movement like a panther on the prowl. “I can’t risk taking a day off while I am still on probation.”

 

Neither of them had brought up the photos during the New Year, nor had they discussed how Hernando was going to deal with any possible harassment in his workplace. It would’ve been nice to hope for a little compassion and understanding from his students and fellow staff members, but Hernando was not that naïve.  

 

And then there was the matter of Lito’s constant weight lifting, shadow boxing, and what had at first looked like tai chi. When Hernando had finally worked up the courage to ask Lito where he had picked up tai chi from, and why he was practicing it in the middle of the living room, Lito had calmly told him that taekwondo and tai chi were nothing alike. So Lito was practicing _taekwondo_ , and not tai chi, and behaving like his motivation for striving to become a mixed martial artist was a mystery not meant for sharing. Before Lito had turned the mornings into a testosterone-filled kung fu movie, he had already been in peak physical condition. It hadn’t been necessary for him to put on anymore muscles, or to learn how to strike at a man’s jugular. Now his muscles were a lot more defined, especially his biceps, which Hernando found incredibly sexy, while at the same time a cause for concern. What was Lito training for?

 

Things were far from normal, even now that Lito had moved into Hernando’s old apartment, leaving Daniela to stay with Lito’s mother until she could find a place of her own. Lito had finally deleted his Facebook and Twitter accounts after the hateful slurs and death threats had begun to include Hernando’s name in them. And whenever they were recognized on the streets, even if they were not in physical contact with each other, they were called such terrible names and occasionally had objects thrown at them. It was all very upsetting, and the idea of sitting down to talk about it made Hernando extremely uncomfortable because he felt partially responsible for the mess that they were in now. If he had tried to reason with Joaquin, instead of provoking Lito into assaulting him, perhaps things would have turned out differently.

 

“You’ll call me if you have any problems?” Lito asked as he reached over to tenderly caress Hernando’s bearded cheek.

 

“If I have any problems, I will handle them like a mature adult,” Hernando replied, glancing up at Lito when he felt a firm grip on his shoulder. That was apparently not the answer that Lito had needed to hear. “Yes,” he relented quietly. “I will call you.”

 

“Good.” Lito pulled Hernando against his chest in a warm hug and began to stroke his thick, dark hair.

 

Just being so close to Lito comforted Hernando and gave him the courage that he needed to continue on with his life. He would not allow a lowlife ruffian like Joaquin to ruin what they had both worked so hard to accomplish, and that included Hernando’s teaching career and Lito’s superstar status.

 

“Hernando… tonight, there are some things that we need to talk about.”

 

“Oh? What sorts of things?” There was something in Lito’s tone that Hernando didn’t particularly like. Something secretive and guilty, like he was on the verge of confessing to deception, which didn’t make sense because Lito never lied to him.

 

“ _Things,”_ Lito repeated in that same cryptic tone, falling silent when Hernando rested his head on his shoulder. They stayed that way for a while, wasting the time that they should’ve spent eating breakfast in favor of just holding onto each other for moral and emotional support.

 

* * *

 

At a few minutes to eight, Lito parked his car alongside the road, far out of sight of the school that Hernando worked for. To say that he was opposed to his boyfriend returning to work at a time when the media was at its worst would have been an understatement. Daniela had confessed to secretly taking a whole slew of photos of the two of them in various positions and states of undress. So far, only a handful of them had made their way onto social media sites and the local news network, which meant that Joaquin intended to keep releasing new ones at regular intervals until he completely destroyed Lito’s career and shamed Hernando into hiding. This was not the right time for his boyfriend to be standing by his work ethics and moral codes of conduct. Sure, Lito understood Hernando’s passion for teaching and art, as well as his belief that justice must always prevail. But that didn’t mean that he agreed with it.

 

“I’ll be back to pick you up this afternoon,” Lito promised as he surreptitiously scanned the street, before leaning over to the passenger’s side to kiss Hernando chastely on the lips, bumping into those thick tortoiseshell glasses of Hernando’s in the process. To Lito, Hernando was so gorgeous that he made even those nerdish glasses look sexy.

 

“This afternoon?” Hernando repeated in confusion as he righted his glasses on his face. “I thought that you would be filming until this evening.”

 

“Uh… that’s right. This evening,” he blurted out.

 

“But…?”

 

“We will take a two-hour break in between the warehouse and church scenes. So I will be back to pick you up,” Lito said, lying smoothly to his beloved Hernando even when it hurt them both to do so.

 

“Okay then. I will see you this afternoon,” Hernando said with a smile – a smile that was uneasy and forced, and so unlike the carefree way that he usually smiled. And his normally big, bright hazel eyes were somewhat lackluster today, as if he were not at all looking forward to resuming work as he so persistently claimed.

 

“Have a nice day.” It took a heck of a lot of restraint for Lito to sit still and not push Hernando back into the passenger’s seat so that he could drive as far away from that school as possible. He knew that trying to control Hernando’s decisions would just drive a wedge between them. But it didn’t make it any easier for him to let his boyfriend enter a potentially dangerous environment.

 

“Thanks. You too!”

 

Lito watched Hernando get out of the car, turn, and give him a brief wave, before disappearing up the street at a measured gait.

 

_“Hey, you’re up early.”_

 

Lito yelped and pulled against his seatbelt to escape the voice from the backseat, until he realized that he was no longer in the car and the voice belonged to someone whom he knew and trusted. “Hello Nomi,” he greeted, turning around to find himself in the middle of a snow-covered park. He automatically hugged his arms and shivered. “It’s freezing here.”

 

“It snowed all last night,” Nomi said with some amusement. “That breezy silk shirt probably isn’t going to cut it on a day like today.” She was walking along a well-trodden path that had become more murky slush than snow while texting away on her cell phone. As usual, she was dressed in a rather peculiar way. Her beige wool coat was not too shabby, but her lopsided rainbow-colored knitted hat, tattered argyle scarf, and well worn mutton boots were all mismatched. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Nomi and her lover Amanita were running from the law because they were both so calm whenever Lito visited San Francisco. But because of their clothing, it wasn’t so hard to imagine that they were relying on the kindness of strangers in order to get by on a daily basis. Lito immediately fell in line with Nomi and followed her through the empty park, glancing up at the bleak grey sky that the bare tree branches on either side of them were stretching towards. “You seem upset about something.”

 

“I am upset about something,” Lito muttered as his light brown eyes met Nomi’s sharp blue ones.

 

When Lito didn’t elaborate, Nomi stopped in front of a park bench to give him a pressing look. “Are you still worried about that _vacation_ that the director forced you to take?”

 

“No. Yes. No.” Lito’s words tripped over his tongue and he dragged both hands down his face to get his thoughts in order.

 

“Oh no,” Nomi gasped, her eyes narrowing at him. “You haven’t told Hernando yet, have you?”

 

“How can I tell him now? He already has so much to worry about.” Sighing miserably, Lito sat down on the park bench, and instantly regretted it when the icy cold surface nearly caused him to freeze his ass off. “Fuck, it’s cold,” he complained, bolting off of the bench and back into Nomi’s line of sight. “I never predicted this, you know. The backlash to my career I had already foreseen, but not…”

 

“You never imagined that Hernando would get hurt by it,” Nomi finished Lito’s sentence, already on the same wavelength as him.

 

“I am such an asshole,” Lito said venomously, shoving his hands into his pockets when his fingertips began to feel numb. “All this time I was only concerned about what might happen to me if anyone were to expose my secret. But it was never just _my_ secret. And now those porno pictures are everywhere,” he spat, hating that his most intimate moments with Hernando were being exploited as something perverse and salacious. Worse yet, Joaquin was undoubtedly making money off of them.

 

“They aren’t porno pictures,” Nomi corrected him, her tone even colder than the subzero temperatures of the park. “You were in the act of making love when they were taken. How they were used is not your fault.”

 

“That no longer matters. What matters is that everyone has seen them. Do you know how Hernando found out that Joaquin had released them? One of his students projected the damn cover page of the website that Joaquin sold them to for the whole class to see!” Lito threw his arms up into the air in a combination of frustration and fury. “There, projected at the front of the class, was a sacred moment between Hernando and myself that was never meant to be shared.” For a moment, Lito got so angry that he could only swear in Spanish before continuing. “But Hernando is so eloquent with his words. He stood up for himself and called it art.”

 

“That’s exactly what it is,” Nomi agreed.

 

“Yes, but that was before his class left. He fell apart after that. I have never seen him looking so frightened or depressed. He is desperately trying to hide it, but I’m afraid that it will eventually become too much for him.”

 

“That’s not all, is it?”

 

“I should be used to this by now,” Lito said with a choked off laugh and a shake of his head. “It’s impossible to keep anything from you.”

 

“Likewise,” Nomi said lightly.

 

“Hernando suspects something. He sees me copying the movements that Sun is teaching us and can’t understand where I’m learning them from. And I can understand his confusion because I couldn’t understand what Sun was trying to demonstrate until the fourth or fifth lesson. We have also been harassed out in public over the past few weeks. Twice, a man we have never met has tried to attack us. Both times I took care of him with my fists when Hernando’s words seemed to not be getting through.”

 

“Wolfgang,” Nomi said with a nod, because Sun’s training was to be reserved for more lethal enemies. A random bigoted stranger needed no more than a few rough strikes to the nose, throat, and sternum to be taken out of action. Wolfgang was teaching backstreet brawling alongside Sun’s taekwondo, and Will’s evasion and escape tactics. In the next week, the sensates had also scheduled Nomi’s computer lessons into their tiring evenings. On top of that, they had Kala’s basic chemistry and First aid classes, Capheus’ mechanic lessons, note-taking on Riley’s black market and underground hiding techniques, and Lito’s mastery of lying while staying calm in an emotional situation. Thankfully the acquisition of foreign languages was something that came naturally to them, otherwise they might be driven crazy by the impossible workload.

 

“Their violence scares me,” Lito continued. “These people who I have never met wish me and my love harm. They urge me to take my own life, or threaten to take Hernando from me. What can I do except train harder and be ready to protect the man that I love?”

 

“And you want to tell Hernando where all this training is coming from?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Nomi exhaled loudly and clapped Lito supportively on the back. “That might be a lot to process. It’s better if you explain a little here and there, instead of dropping the whole sensate cluster on him at once. Or, better yet, you might want to start with your current job situation. It’s better he finds out from you rather than from someone else.”

 

“You’re probably right.” That was the last thing that Lito wanted, for Hernando to lose the ability to trust him. Lito had left their apartment a few times this week under the pretense of going to work, when he had in reality driven halfway across town to go for a jog and blow off some steam. His career was in limbo, nobody would give him any direct answers about when – or _if_ – he would be allowed to act again, and now Hernando was putting himself back into a volatile classroom where the anti-gay sentiment seemed to be unanimous. Maybe if he told Hernando the truth, his boyfriend would realize just how dangerous their predicament was and stay home where he would be safe. Nowadays, actors who chose to come out in Hollywood were applauded for their courage and for remaining true to themselves. But in Mexico, the act of coming out was something like inviting a death sentence. “Do you have any suggestions for how I can get Hernando to take some time off from work?”

 

Nomi made a frustrated sound and shook her head. “I couldn’t get Neets to stop working at that bookstore until _after_ the Feds came after us and raided our safe house. She thought that she could just go about her normal activities because she hadn’t done anything wrong. Hernando probably thinks the same thing. You’d better do something to change his way of thinking before things get worse.”


	2. Chapter 2

Hernando didn’t know whether to feel offended or relieved when he walked into the lecture hall to find it completely empty. The students still had another twenty minutes before class started, so he didn’t want to jump to any conclusions too quickly, but usually around this time there would be at least four or five people sitting in the back row. Not many people took a genuine interest in art, at least not to the extent that Hernando did, so he was never too surprised to find students gossiping and flirting around before class instead of doing any real studying. There were a select few who honestly appreciated art and came to learn, and it was for those handful of students that Hernando had shown up today.

 

“Mr. Fuentes.”

 

Hernando hadn’t even realized how nervous he was until he ended up stumbling into the podium at the sound of his name being called out by a voice much too deep and stern to have belonged to a student. He barely managed to grab hold of his notes before they scattered all over the floor. “Good morning Principal Garcia,” Hernando responded politely, trying not to appear flustered and unbalanced in front of the dark, grey-haired man who was approaching the front of the lecture hall. This was the man who had been responsible for hiring him, after all, and despite whatever was going on in Hernando’s personal life, he did not want to seem incompetent in the workplace. “What can I do for you this morning?”

 

Garcia stopped a good four or five feet away from Hernando and sharply thrust out a piece of paper for him to take. “You should’ve received a copy of this in the mail yesterday.”

 

“What is this?” Hernando asked, taking a step towards Garcia to retrieve the paper. It did not escape his attention when the older man gave him a look of disgust, flung the paper in his general direction, and backed away. As if he were carrying some sort of infectious disease and needed to be kept out of arm’s reach. Before Hernando had a chance to skim through the document, Garcia was already explaining the contents in a severe, impatient tone.

 

“You’ve been terminated – effective immediately. You are to remove yourself from the premises before the first bell and refrain from interacting with any of the students.”

 

“What?” The startled question came out as a strangled sound that Hernando didn’t automatically identify as his own voice. He forced himself to glance down at the rather long letter that was devoid of any salutations, and difficult to read with so many punctuation errors. Evidently, Garcia had typed up the letter in haste, letting his emotions flow into the unprofessional vocabulary that he had used to describe Hernando’s person. _This school has no tolerance for sluts who prostitute themselves out to members of the same sex?!_ Hernando’s eyes widened at that sentence, before his vision blurred with tears. “You said…” When his voice broke, Hernando cleared his throat and tried again, too ashamed to raise his eyes to meet Garcia’s for fear of seeing the hatred in them. “You said that I was the best art history professor that you’d ever employed. You know that I have all the material memorized and that I don’t just read from the textbook. This semester has seen the largest number of students enroll in --.”

 

“Mr. Fuentes!” Garcia cut Hernando off in a seriously volatile tone. “You may have gotten the job based on how articulate you were during your interview, but I never would’ve hired you had I known--.”

 

This time Hernando interrupted Garcia, meeting his gaze and imploring him for mercy. “My skills as a teacher should not be based on my sexual orientation. Such prejudices have no place in our education system, just as they would not be welcome in the world of art. You yourself as an educator should be able to appreciate the dangers inherit in fueling discriminatory behavior.”

 

“Perhaps I’m not making myself clear. I do not employ _faggots_ ,” Garcia snarled, taking a step forward to tear the remote for the projector out of Hernando’s shaking hand. He then turned on his heel and stormed back up the stairs to the exit at the far end of the lecture hall, leaving Hernando a devastated emotional wreck.

 

Even after Garcia had disappeared from sight, Hernando had a difficult time grasping what had just transpired. He had never once considered the possibility that Joaquin’s cruel actions against Lito would affect him as well. How foolish he had been to believe that his explicit act of love with Lito would be constrained to adult sites requiring age validation with the use of a credit card. Nowadays, anyone with an Internet connection could get their hands on anything, and that included students who delighted in cyber-bullying. Why had he bothered to hope that his dedication and professionalism would be enough to ensure his job security? How blatantly naïve and short-sighted he had been to imagine that he could continue to teach a classroom of students who had seen him naked and having sex with another man. And that word… That one horrible word that filled him with revulsion and self-loathing… _Faggot_. Hernando had nearly felt his heart break when he’d seen that hateful word spray painted outside the condominium that he and Lito had been evicted from. But hearing it uttered with such vehemence and disgust by another human being made it seem all the more powerful, and nauseating.

 

What was he doing lingering in the lecture hall? Fantasizing about how things should have – or could have – been would do nothing to change the fact that he had just lost the only job that had held true meaning to him. Teaching as an art professor had allowed him to share his undying passion for the arts, as well as his love for freedom of expression. At the front of the lecture room he had had no restraints, no maximum length of words that he had to confine himself to. No format that he was expected to follow. He had been free to be as creative as he wished while mentoring a rather large group of artistically-inclined young men and women. And now that had all been taken away from him.

 

Having hesitated for far too long, Hernando quickly made his way to the back of the lecture hall and slipped out the rear exit. He feared the consequences of not making himself scarce as he had been instructed, and he didn’t want to have to endure the shame of being spotted in such a flustered state. The rear door opened out onto the parking lot, which was blessedly empty, allowing Hernando to make his escape unnoticed. He was halfway across the parking lot before the first bell rang, startling him back into reality.

 

 _Lito_. Lito had said to call if anything happened, but Hernando was pretty sure that he had been referring to something of a violent nature. He couldn’t draw Lito’s attention away from his work because that wouldn’t change anything. The damage had already been done. Regardless of what had happened to him, sharing that information with Lito now would accomplish nothing except to distract him from whatever scene he was involved in. Sometimes it took Lito a while to get into character, and the last thing that Hernando wanted to do was cost his lover an extra day of filming because he’d upset him with his troubles in the middle of a scene.

 

There was a small coffee shop a twenty-minute walk away. Hernando could pass a couple of hours there while searching for another job online. But what was he going to tell Lito? When Hernando had been hired on the spot a little over a month ago, he had excitedly text messaged Lito the instant he was outside of the principal’s office. And later on, Lito had surprised him with a chocolate cake and a romantic evening lounging inside the rooftop Jacuzzi, which had been overflowing with a floral scented bubble bath. Lito had been so happy for him…

 

Despite Hernando’s best efforts to conceal how distraught he was, he couldn’t do anything to stop the tears from trickling down his cheeks, nor could he convince his choked emotions to release the strangled grip that they had on his wounded heart.

 

* * *

 

 

“What are you all pissed off about?”

 

Somehow, it seemed like the more comfortable Lito became with the hive mind concept, the less courteous some of its members tended to be with the way they abused it. It was abuse, wasn’t it? Popping into existence like that without so much as a warning chime or a clearing of the throat.

 

Lito turned to give Wolfgang, and his cranky lack of a greeting, a serious stare-down. “Do you need something?”

 

“Me? I thought it was _you_ who needed something,” Wolfgang said in his normally uninflected tone. It didn’t sound like he was angry and in need of assistance, but neither did he seem to be concerned and ready to offer his help. Not that Lito needed anything from him at the moment anyway.

 

“Isn’t there any way to shut this thing off? I mean, no offense, but I’m beginning to think that I’ve permanently lost my right to privacy,” Lito grumbled.

 

The professional lock-cracker, and all-around tough guy, just sat in the passenger seat of Lito’s car, not bothering to offer his opinion on what he thought of the way the sensates spontaneously communicated with each other. He was secretive with his thoughts and mute with his emotions. If any of the others were having better luck with reading the German ruffian, Lito considered their skills of perception to be much better than his. He sensed that there was something going on between Wolfgang and Kala, but he didn’t yet feel confident enough to define that something with a label.

 

“You think that you’ve lost your privacy?” Wolfgang snickered, finally revealing some of the emotions that he’d buried deep within himself. “Try having someone watching you while you’re having your brains fucked out by some hot escort girl.”

 

 _It can’t be as messed up as trading partners halfway through the fucking,_ Lito mused, wondering when he and Nomi were going to have _that_ talk. And then there was Will…

 

“It’s already 4:35,” Lito pointed out as he slapped the dashboard clock with the back of his hand. “Hernando is never late. And I’ve tried calling him but he won’t pick up.”

 

“Ah, boyfriend troubles,” Wolfgang said knowingly. “You’ve been having a lot of those recently.”

 

“No, it isn’t like that. Hernando and I made up and haven’t fought since. If there’s any reason for him being late, the blame lies with _that_ school over there.” Lito glared in the rearview mirror, satisfied when Wolfgang’s cold blue eyes followed his line of sight. “Do you see? That school is filled with witch hunters, and they view my beloved Hernando as a witch. How could I allow him to come here today? If anything has happened to him…”

 

“So who is the target?”

 

“Huh?”

 

Wolfgang gave him an infuriating look of irritation before speaking again. “We’ve done this a few times already, Lito. In case you’ve forgotten, this is the way it works. You get angry and want to beat the shit out of someone, I take over and send that person to the emergency room. Now who is it?”

 

Lito dropped his head into his hands and groaned in frustration. “I don’t know their names. There was that smartass kid in the middle row who called our moment of romance _packer porn_. And then there were the three kids who were filming Hernando’s reaction on their cell phones…”

 

“ _Kids?”_ Wolfgang’s features steeled and he crossed his arms over his chest in disapproval. “I don’t beat on kids.”

 

“Twenty is not a kid. And Hernando is not so much older than them. He should not be subjected to such cruel behavior.” Lito was about to say more on the subject when the passenger door suddenly opened and Hernando climbed in. “Thank God, Hernando!” Lito exclaimed, about to lunge across the seat to hug him when he realized that Wolfgang was still present. As soon as Hernando had taken possession of the front passenger’s seat, Wolfgang had been ejected to the backseat, but he was still there. Lito tried to unsubtly glare at Wolfgang sitting there, willing him to vanish, but he was met with a stubborn shrug and a shake of the head. Focusing his attention on Hernando again, Lito was confused when his boyfriend turned to look out the window instead of at him. “Hernando?” Knowing that something was amiss based on his love’s uncharacteristically quiet and withdrawn behavior, Lito carefully placed a hand on his shoulder to feel him trembling. Now Lito was very, very upset. Ignoring Wolfgang, who looked just a touch more intimidating than before, Lito shifted closer to Hernando to pull him into his arms. A second later, his neck became wet with Hernando’s tears, and the horrible sound of his love’s sorrowful weeping became a lot more audible. “Who hurt you?” Lito demanded to know, feeling his blood pressure rise and his imagination travel down dark, unimaginable paths. “Give me their names and I will punish them for whatever they did.”

 

“Maybe this is why I’m here,” Wolfgang said as he leaned closer to the front seats. “Are you an idiot? Even if I teach you how to hold your own in a fight, you still have to know how to pick your fights. You can’t go off into a school full of kids half-cocked.”

 

“Watch me!”

 

“ _W—what_?” Hernando sniffled. “Watch you do what?”

 

When was Lito going to learn that he had to visit Wolfgang in order to keep his crazed outbursts silent on his own end? “Watch me beat those bullies who harassed you,” he quickly improvised.

 

“No,” Hernando protested. “That is how this all started, with you physically assaulting Joaquin. Violence only incites more violence. If I had attempted to reason with him, we would not be in this mess right now. This is all my fault.”

 

How could Hernando possibly think that any of this was his fault? _Wait a minute! Reason with Joaquin?!_ Was Hernando out of his mind? “Are you mad? Joaquin is a man of violence, not a man of words. It is I who should be apologizing to you. If I had stood up to him in the first place, on the night that he broke into our home, none of this would have happened. You did not instruct me to go to his house and get into a fight with him. I did that on my own. It was best that I confront him in order to free Daniela because I shudder to think of what he would have done to you had you tried to _reason_ with him instead.”

 

“Get to the point.”

 

Lito glared at Wolfgang, before asking Hernando again why he was so upset. “What happened, Hernando?”

 

“I lost my job, Lito,” Hernando confessed tearfully. “All because of those photos.”

 

“Bastards,” Wolfgang spat as he sat there trying to block out the sounds of Hernando’s misery. “Call me when you find out who it is that needs punched in the face,” he said to Lito, returning to his own reality so that the actor could deal with his.

 

“Oh, my love,” Lito breathed in a torrent of emotion. He squeezed Hernando tighter to him, kissing his tear-streaked cheek, and stroking his thick dark hair. That job had meant so much to his boyfriend. Hernando had been filled with so much happiness and pride from the moment he’d been hired, being offered the job on the spot after the principal had already interviewed – and passed on – several other candidates. Nothing gave Hernando greater pleasure than marking interpretative essays on modern and classic art written by the astute students who were currently taking his class. In fact, Hernando even enjoyed reading the essays slapped together by the lazy and artistically-challenged students because their _creative bullshit_ was yet another form of artistic expression. At least in Hernando’s eyes.

 

Even though Lito wanted to hold Hernando in his arms and comfort him, he couldn’t do so now that the street was swarming with students who were leaving school for the day. Was there nothing he could do with Hernando that wouldn’t be construed as wicked and depraved in the eyes of the general public?

 

“We can talk about this at home,” Lito promised as he released Hernando and started the car. “But it is their loss. There is no one more suitable for that job than you.” Whereas his words of support and encouragement usually resulted in Hernando beaming happily, this time they had no affect whatsoever.


	3. Chapter 3

Sometime in the late hours of the evening, after having shared a particularly _hot_ shower with Hernando, Lito was attempting to unwind by organizing the bedroom. He liked things to be perfectly ordered because it helped him to clear his mind. When he’d been living in his own upscale suite, the walls had been harmonized by the paintings that his interior decorator had picked out, and his clothes had been arranged in the closet according to season, color, and function. Even his kitchen cupboards had been free of anything out of place or unsightly. But Hernando’s small, humble apartment was a complete contrast to what Lito was used to. Although perfectly neat, every free space in Hernando’s bedroom and living room was occupied with books, photo albums, mementos, and artistic pieces. In terms of content, Hernando’s home was unbalanced by the number of books that he owned. They even outnumbered all the clothes that he had in the closet. There were books on art, astronomy, culture, creative writing, history, philosophy, and even psychology. At first, Lito had been surprised to discover that there weren’t any cookbooks… until he’d found a whole stash of them lined up inside one of the kitchen cupboards. There was no rhyme or reason to the order of Hernando’s belongings. He put them wherever he felt they belonged. Somehow, Hernando’s apartment felt a lot warmer than Lito’s had been. It was more honest and richer in personality, just like Hernando himself.

 

After they’d gotten home, Hernando had not been in the mood to tidy up. He’d simply discarded his clothing wherever, dumped his notes all over the end of the bed, and quietly gone into the washroom with a forlorn look on his face. He hadn’t even bothered to take the dishes that he’d eaten dinner off of back into the kitchen, which was so unlike him. Nor had he eaten more than half of the pork and cheese tortillas that Lito had picked up from a street vendor on the way home. Lito had figured that Hernando probably wasn’t feeling up to cooking, which is why he had risked being recognized to pick up some food from a very public area, but he had been dismayed to find out that his love lacked the appetite for eating as well.

 

Lito hadn’t known what to do with Hernando when he was refusing to speak to him, so he’d followed his love into the shower, covered his body with soothing kisses, and pressed him up against the tiles as he made love to him. For it was not only Hernando’s intellectual mind that was ruled by passion. Hernando craved physical contact as much as he desired an outlet for his philosophical ruminations. Considering how Lito was also a very tactile person, it had been no trouble for him to console Hernando with the tender brush of his lips over his love’s warm flesh and quivering lips. And it had certainly been no hardship for him to stroke his hands over Hernando’s tense shoulders, down his smooth back, and over the slight curve of his backside, before his slick fingers had delved lower and deeper. When Lito had taken him, Hernando hadn’t made a sound, as if he were trying to deprive himself of the pleasure because he no longer believed he deserved it. Lito had forced his movements to be agonizingly slow, teasing his love until he'd finally managed to coax a tortured moan out of him. Because Lito would not allow Hernando to be deprived of anything, least of all the way that Lito liked to worship him.

 

“Hernando, are these papers important?” Lito asked. He didn’t get an answer because Hernando didn’t seem to be able to hear him over the noise of the hairdryer. If the papers were related to the job that Hernando had just been let go from, leaving them lying on the bed would no doubt just upset him more. Not wanting to see his dear, sweet Hernando in tears again, Lito quickly shuffled the pages into an awkward pile and lifted them off of the comforter. That’s when he noticed what was written on the one on top.

 

“ _Hernando Fuentes, it has come to the attention of the school board that you have engaged in lecherous activities…” Blah, blah, blah._ Lito skimmed through that part because he wasn’t sure what lecherous activities meant. “ _… many complaints from the students’ parents regarding that obscene photo that you showed your class.”_ No, that wasn’t right. Hernando hadn’t shown anyone anything. It had been that little prick with the black beanie and hideously loud shirt in the middle row who had commandeered the projector in order to shame Hernando in front of the entire lecture hall. Lito was just about to crumple up the piece of paper in a fit of rage when his gaze fell on one of the sentences near the bottom. “ _This school has no tolerance for sluts who prostitute themselves out to members of the same sex.”_ In that instant, Lito thought that he literally saw red when he seized the letter between both hands and prepared to rip it in half.

 

“Hold on a second! You can’t just _rip it_!”

 

Lito was so angry that he didn’t even bother to look up to acknowledge Will’s presence. “And why can’t I? That bastard _Garcia_ ,” Lito narrowed his eyes in hatred at the name at the bottom of the page, “called my sweet Hernando a _slut_! And a _prostitute_! _Estoy hasta los cajones!_ _Qué carbón!_ Does this piece of filth even know what a prostitute is? Hernando would never in a million years compromise his morals – or his body – for money. And he would certainly never stray from me.”

 

“Okay, okay.” Will held up his hands in a peaceful gesture, temporarily calming Lito, until he reached over to snatch the letter from his hands.

 

“Give that back,” Lito hissed, looking over his shoulder to make sure that Hernando was still in the washroom. “He doesn’t need to read that trash again.”

 

“No, he doesn’t. But you might want to offer it to the police and have them investigate it. Where I come from, this is a hate crime.”

 

“Oh, so hatred is a crime where you come from?” Lito mocked. “It’s still perfectly acceptable in Mexico.”

 

“There are laws in Mexico that prevent discrimination,” Will insisted.

 

Fed up with Will’s meddling, Lito glared directly into Will’s face… and was stunned to see how pale and sickly the suspended police officer looked. Will didn’t visit as often as the others did, due to his current _situation_ , but whenever he did, he was unshaven and had dark circles under his eyes. He looked like shit – an animated zombie roaming the earth on borrowed time.  Thankfully, Lito had the manners and common sense not to voice those thoughts out loud.

 

“I’m doing my best to take care of him,” a female voice protested.

 

 _Riley._ “I didn’t say anything,” Lito said to the slim DJ with the short blonde punkish hairstyle who was now standing defensively next to Will.

 

“You didn’t have to. I can tell by the way you look at him.”

 

_Here we go again!_

 

“You know, it’s not easy for me to do this. How would you feel if you had to keep Hernando constantly drugged up and unconscious for days at a time?”

 

Lito would never even consider such a thing. He would just as soon as cut off his own arm before he entertained the idea of shooting heroin into his love’s veins. And he would have said as much if he hadn’t become a little more sensitive to the feelings of others thanks to Hernando’s influence. “I know that it must be difficult for you, but if this _Whispers_ gets control of Will, it will be over for all of us.” He reached over to grip Riley’s shoulder, trying to provide the emotionally strained woman with some support. He wished that there was something that he could do to help the two of them out, but he didn’t even know where they were because Will wasn’t supposed to figure out his own whereabouts. If he ever did learn of his current location, so would Whispers, and then the hunt would be on.

 

“Would the two of you mind not talking as if I’m not here?” Will sighed and pulled Riley against him with one protective arm, again seeking out Lito’s understanding. “If you destroy this piece of paper, Hernando won’t have any proof of how he was fired unjustly. I’m familiar with the laws in Mexico. They might not be as airtight as the ones in the U.S., but they still aim to protect their citizens from being discriminated against based on sexual orientation.”

 

“I know what the laws state,” Lito said in annoyance. “They also state that I can marry Hernando should I choose to do so. But what they don’t say is that we can be murdered in the streets by homophobic gangs, or charged with a crime we did not commit by prejudiced police officers. If we take that letter to the police, Hernando would have to disclose his sexual orientation. They would write down his address and other detailed information that could be used against him in the future.”

 

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit paranoid? Not every cop on the force can be bad.”

 

“It just takes one,” Nomi pointed out from somewhere behind Lito. “Remember how I was held in that hospital room against my will? There were police officers involved in that. And this took place in our own country, Will. Those cops were all for me getting lobotomized because of my gender identity.”

 

“Okay, so even if you don’t feel like it’s safe to take this to the police now, you should still keep the letter as proof,” Will insisted.

 

“Lito.”

 

Lito whirled around, nearly elbowing Nomi in the face, when he heard Hernando call him. His love’s hair was dry and his beard freshly trimmed, and he was wearing nothing but a pair of clean navy blue briefs and a loose white tank top. Although Hernando was a feast for the eyes, Lito didn’t want anyone else to benefit from the experience. He turned again, relieved that his fellow sensates had taken Hernando’s entrance as a cue to leave, and then looked back at his love. “Are you ready to go to bed now?”

 

“Why is the letter on the floor?”

 

The better question was, _why had Will dropped it in plain sight?_ Couldn’t he have kicked it under the bed or something? “I got angry and threw it there,” Lito half-lied. He didn’t want Hernando anywhere near that letter. If Will hadn’t convinced him that holding onto it would be in their best interests, he would’ve torn it into tiny pieces and set it on fire.

 

“Could you please put it somewhere else? I would rather never see it again.”

 

Lito dropped his heel onto the letter and slid it under the bed with his foot, and then sat down on the comforter, next to Hernando. “Hernando… I was thinking… Maybe we should take that letter to the police and file a complaint.”

 

“Oh no,” Hernando said with a shake of his head. “Please, Lito, no more drama. Even if I were to consider fighting for my rights to equality, I would have to do so with the intention of reclaiming my job.”

 

“Isn’t that what you want?” Lito asked in confusion.

 

Hernando turned his head to the side to study Lito with those big, sad hazel eyes of his, which were pretty red from all the crying he’d been doing in the car. “Would you want to work alongside a man who had called you such despicable names?”

 

No, Lito would most definitely not want to call an asshole like Garcia his employer. “Alright, we don’t have to think about that now. Come here and sit beside me.” He crawled up to the head of the bed – a bed that was comfy, but half the width of the Italian-imported king-sized bed that he’d had back at his penthouse – made himself comfortable propped up against the pillows, and waited until Hernando was close enough to pull into his arms. Then he lowered his chin onto Hernando’s bare shoulder and just sat there inhaling the faint scent of bergamot, grapefruit, sandalwood and whatever else his love’s handcrafted soap contained. Hernando had a tendency to treat earthy blends of soaps and spices as inspiration for his senses. When Lito had embraced him on their first date, he’d nearly been overwhelmed by how wonderful he’d smelled. Lito was more of a brand name type of guy and happened to shop for whatever products promised success, arousal, and masculinity. He had never realized just how bland his choices were until he’d practically devoured Hernando and his aphrodisiac of natural scents. “Hernando, I have a confession to make,” he said carefully as he pressed a kiss to Hernando’s bearded jaw.

 

“Are you finally going to admit that you’ve joined a martial arts class?”

 

“I’ll get to that in a moment.” Or maybe in a few moments. Or not at all. Whenever Lito role-played the sensate conversation between himself and Hernando in his head, it always ended with Hernando walking out on him or having him committed. Neither probable outcome was so appealing. “It’s about my job…”

 

“Please don’t tell me that you are being harassed as well,” Hernando pleaded.

 

“Actually, I haven’t been to work since the beginning of last week.”

 

Hernando stiffened in Lito’s arms and took a moment to comment. “Why not?”

 

“I was told to _take a vacation_ – indefinitely.”

 

“Lito, I don’t understand. You told me that you went to work yesterday. And this morning…”

 

“I lied.”

 

“Oh.” The hand that had been stroking Lito’s strong arm stopped, and then disappeared. And that was all Hernando said.

 

“I didn’t want to worry you, not with what you already had to deal with at the school. I’ve been trying to find another project to work on. Something came up yesterday, but… I didn’t think that you would be too happy to find me working in gay pornos…” Lito laughed uncomfortably in an attempt to lighten the mood.

 

“ _Lito_ ,” Hernando said sharply. “That isn’t remotely amusing.”

 

“Sorry,” Lito said weakly. “I screwed up again. I know that I shouldn’t have lied to you, but I didn’t want you to worry… I promise that it will never happen again. I just don’t know what to do, Hernando. I have enough saved up to support us both, and then there are my investments, so you don’t have to worry about money. I’ll take care of you. But if you will think less of me for not working, I will try to find something in the…,” Lito shuddered, “ _service industry.”_ There wasn’t much else an actor with his skills could do. His basic computer skills wouldn’t get him anywhere because the most he could use a computer for was updating his status on Facebook and reading reviews on his own movies. If he worked part-time in a coffee shop, he would probably end up hating it, but at least he would have the talent to pretend that he was enjoying it.

 

“Money is the least of my concerns. I would never think less of you for any decision you make, so long as you don’t lie to me.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Lito apologized again. “Really sorry. Will you forgive me?” He squeezed Hernando tighter against his chest, getting ready to prevent his love from trying to walk out on him. Then he remembered that this was Hernando’s apartment. If Hernando wanted to break up with him again, he would find himself out on the streets.

 

“This time I will because I can understand why you did it. But after this, no more lies, Lito. _Ever_. This will be the last exception that I make.”

 

“No more lies from now on. I promise.” Lito took hold of Hernando’s hand and used his love’s finger to make the sign of the cross over his heart. “Okay?”

 

“I hope so. Now are we going to talk about your odd morning workouts?”

 

“I think that we should discuss what happened at the school first.” Not because Lito was still trying to be evasive, but because he needed to know if Garcia required a fist in the mouth for treating Hernando like a piece of crap. That letter alone justified a black eye at the very least. “What did that bastard say to you?”

 

“Not much…” Hernando tiredly repositioned himself so that he was lying on his side with his head pillowed on Lito’s chest. He took off his glasses and held them out for Lito to take and safely place on the bedside table. Then he closed his eyes and feigned sleep, until Lito began to caress his face to keep him awake. “He called me a _faggot._ ”

 

Lito felt his blood pressure dramatically rise upon hearing that offensive word. Although there were many derogatory words commonly used to refer to gays, for some reason, that one really got his blood boiling. “That’s it,” he declared, clenching the hand that was not caressing Hernando into a fist at his side. “We are going to go back to that school tomorrow morning, and you are going to point this bully out to me. Then, I am going to take his head off.”   

 

“Lito, please calm down. I appreciate that you feel the need to defend me, but I can’t stand anymore violence.”

 

Remembering Whispers, the murder attempt on Sun, Nomi’s confinement and aborted lobotomy, Riley’s kidnapping and subsequent rescue, Kala’s future father-in-law being ambushed and stabbed repeatedly in front of her, Wolfgang’s raid on his uncle’s house that had ended in a bloody massacre, Capheus’ ruthless gang battle and the daring rescue of his employer, and Will’s current painful drug addiction, Lito had to seriously restrain himself from voicing what he now thought about violence. Instead, he leaned down to kiss Hernando on the forehead, thinking that he would go to the ends of the earth for this man whom he loved so dearly. “There are times when violence is necessary. For love. For survival,” he said quietly, wondering if Hernando was still listening because he seemed to be drifting off to sleep. Despite being an action hero, Lito had never considered himself to be tough, brave, or willing to do whatever it took to right evils and injustice. His fistfight with Joaquin had taught him differently. If something he valued was at stake, he could be motivated to do just about anything. If he had pummeled someone for his friend Daniela, how much further would he be willing to go to protect Hernando? “For you, I would do _anything_ ,” he whispered.

 

“That is a line you should never cross,” Kala said sternly as she walked through their bedroom and disappeared somewhere near the closet.

 

“Only the naïve are unprepared to make that jump,” Wolfgang argued from the doorway.

 

“You won’t really know what you’re capable of until you are forced into such a situation. I speak from experience.” Capheus’ voice was the last that Lito was consciously aware of before he slouched back against the pillows with his eyes closed and his arms loosely wrapped around Hernando, sleep already tugging at the corners of his mind. There was a click as one of the sensates had the decency to turn off the lights on his or her way out, and then nothing but dreams.


	4. Chapter 4

“If you continue to hold your fist at that angle, I will have no choice but to snap your wrist,” Sun said calmly as she inspected what she deemed to be a really sloppy defensive position.

 

Keeping his complaints to himself, because bickering with his kickboxing/taekwondo instructor would earn him either 25 pushups or 50 situps – and he wasn’t sure which one made his body ache more – Lito straightened up his wrist and tried to keep his chin tucked in like she had demonstrated. Lito usually did around 50 situps and pushups a day, but Sun had already made him do 100 of each this morning, and there were still 35 minutes left to the lesson.

 

“If you lock your elbows, your opponent will break your arms in two.”

 

Was there no end to what kind of injuries he might sustain if he didn’t position his body just so? “Sun, it’s 6am and I’m exhausted. I didn’t get to bed until after midnight last night.” _Oh shit!_ He’d just complained.

 

“25 pushups. Now.”

 

There was no one forcing Lito to obey her commands, but if he didn’t, she would come to the conclusion that he was not serious about learning from her and take off to let him go back to trying to imitate _The Karate Kid_ in order to pick up some fighting moves. Judging by the embarrassed way she had reacted to his abysmal lack of fighting skills during their first lesson, watching that movie had not done him any favors. So, with no other choice, Lito dropped to the floor to give her 25 of the most serious pushups that he was capable of pulling off.

 

“And, if you must know, it is 7pm in Seoul right now. Very little light gets into this bricked-up prison cell, especially in the evening. Any later and I will have difficulty instructing you.”

 

“All the lights are on over here,” Lito gasped between pushups.

 

“It is a mental thing. The darkness saps my energy.”

 

In that case, shouldn’t they be moving onto more lethal kicks and punches before she lost the will to teach? _Keep your mouth shut and finish your pushups,_ Lito ordered himself, knowing that the pushups were just another form of discipline that Sun was trying to instill in him. Hearing movement from the bedroom, Lito visited Sun on her end to ask her a question, and found himself engulfed in immediate darkness. “You weren’t kidding when you said that it was dark in here. What did you do to get yourself banished to solitary confinement – again?”

 

“I had a misunderstanding with another inmate. It does not matter. Being in here alone helps me to think.”

 

“And plot,” Lito added knowingly.

 

“There is also that,” Sun conceded. “If you are finished lying on the ground, you may get up to continue with our lesson.”

 

Lito got up so that he could face the unassuming woman with the short black hair, focused black eyes, and hard-as-a-rock toned body. Fully clothed in her tacky blue inmate’s uniform, Sun looked too slim and light to pose much of a threat to a girl guide, never mind a group of assassins. But prisoner 0773 – as Sun was referred to in her current accommodations – was the perfect example of why you should never underestimate your enemy. She could crush a man’s throat with one strike, kick down two men at the same time, and still have the energy to knock down five more before beginning to feel _mildly_ winded. Her corrective taps alone left bruises on Lito’s forearms, and she’d kneed him in the thigh once hard enough to make him think that he would have permanent nerve damage. He would’ve thought that she was a superhuman if he hadn’t known that Wolfgang’s punches promised just as much physical damage. Luckily for him, Wolfgang had no desire to spar with him because it scared him to know that a visiting sensate could temporarily become solid enough to kiss – in Riley’s case with Will – or kick in the balls – like Sun had done to him. Although Sun had informed him that the groin was the easiest way to incapacitate an opponent, Lito hadn’t really thought that it had been necessary to strike him there to prove a point. While it was true that he was no longer crouching in a defensive stance with his legs wide open, he was still holding a grudge over the way she’d caused him to worry about erectile dysfunction all last week.

 

“Are we all getting private lessons now?” Kala appeared in Lito’s peripheral vision wearing a pretty floral t-shirt and a long bright yellow skirt. She still had her big hooped earrings in and was roaming about the living room barefoot, obviously not in a fighting state of mind.

 

“Only Lito at the moment,” Sun replied, reaching forward to grip Lito’s chin between her thumb and forefinger, and push his head down and back in a no-nonsense manner. “Keep your chin tucked in.”

 

“Morning, Kala,” Lito greeted her with a smile. Of all the other sensates, she was the one who he could relate to the easiest when it came to their physical training. She had never been involved in a fight and seemed to embrace passivism over violence. The closest she’d ever come to a violent act was shoving a man up against a wall. While she was beginning to come around and see that in a life or death situation violence was a necessary evil, she was still uncomfortable around it.

 

“Good evening, Lito.” She returned the smile and hung back to watch Sun get him ready for a painful bout of sparring. “I was thinking…”

 

“You want to join in?”

 

“Oh, no. No, no.” Kala waved away the idea with both hands and backed away further to avoid getting ploughed into when Lito attacked Sun. “Hernando still seems to be awfully depressed… In India, we have a delicious drink called _kesar doodh_ – or saffron milk tea if you wish for a simpler name – to combat both depression and insomnia. Or _khichdi_ is a popular comfort food for those who are sick or feeling down. I would be more than happy to share the recipe with you.”

 

Lito was so caught up in what Kala was saying that he didn’t see Sun’s left arm come crashing down on top of both of his, forcing his guard down, until it was too late. By that time, she’d managed to sweep his legs out from under him and knock him onto his back. He landed on the carpeted floor with a loud thud and lay there dazed and winded, gulping when Sun leapt atop him, and jammed her forearm up against his throat. “Concentrate,” she chided with the utmost calm, only getting off of him when she was satisfied that she had nearly given him a heart attack.

 

“Oh dear,” Kala groaned, dropping her gaze guiltily when Sun glanced her way.

 

After he’d swallowed down the nervous tension in his throat, Lito rolled onto his hands and knees, and then got back onto his feet. “We have milk, and Hernando probably has saffron somewhere in his collection of spices. I’d appreciate the recipe for that milk tea. The second one sounds too challenging.”

 

“Very well. Saffron milk tea it is,” Kala agreed cheerfully.

 

“Come at me again,” Sun commanded, keeping her expression and tone as authoritative as possible, while her posture remained deceptively relaxed.

 

Grimacing at the pain his instructor was about to dish out, Lito took a large step forward, keeping his weight balanced on his supporting leg, and his advancing leg gingerly itching to knock Sun onto her ass. He made sure that his supporting leg stayed _behind_ his advancing leg, so there would be no more low blows, and swung his hips behind the jab that he started out with.

 

“Not bad. Keep coming,” Sun encouraged, although she failed to look impressed. She knocked Lito’s fist out of the way, didn’t praise him when he kept his guard up, and blocked the cross that followed. What she didn’t block was the uppercut that Lito twisted his weight and power into once he was close enough to invade her personal space. Although unskilled, Lito had the strength and physical prowess to make that punch really count. His knuckles connected with the underside of her jaw with a solid _whap_ , which served to knock her head back and cause her to lose her balance for a fraction of a second.

 

“Oh God, I’m _so sorry_ ,” Lito apologized, not failing to notice the look of astonishment that Kala gave him. “I thought you were going to block that.”

 

Incredibly, Sun grinned and raised her head up again to give him a look of defiance. “If I had wanted to block it, I would have blocked it. You needed to know what it feels like to hit another human being, _and_ to have the resolution to keep hitting them until they are removed from the battlefield.”

 

“But I hit Joaquin plenty a couple of months ago.

 

“ _Wolfgang_ hit Joaquin,” Sun corrected him. “You were merely there as a silent observer. There will come a time when neither Wolfgang nor myself will be around to assist you. When that time comes, _you_ will take your enemy on with confidence and skill.”

 

Lito tried to nod in understanding, but the only thought screaming in his mind was that he had just struck a woman in the face. _What kind of gentleman punches a woman in the face?!_ He was still thinking that when Sun came at him again, forcing him onto the defensive as he tried to protect his face from her lightning fast punches. He managed to block a few, but was seriously losing ground in Hernando’s small, cramped living room, so he dropped to the ground, kicked his leg out at Sun’s legs, and heard a sharp cry of warning.

 

“ _Lito!”_ Kala shrieked. “Hernando is behind you!”

 

 _Shit!_ Suddenly, Lito’s leg connected with a leg that was not as immovable as Sun’s, tripping that person up in midstep. He saw a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye as Hernando lost his balance, as well as heard a sharp gasp of surprise. Reacting instinctively, Lito lunged at Hernando, catching him in his arms, his momentum throwing his left shoulder into the doorframe leading to the bedroom, before he crashed onto his right knee and then hit the floor on his right side. Despite the clumsy way that he went down, he kept his grip on Hernando firm, until he rolled them both onto the carpet with him on the bottom. “Gotcha,” Lito cried out triumphantly, trying to pretend like he’d planned the mini circus act.

 

“Are you trying to put me in an early grave?” Hernando demanded breathlessly. Judging by the frantic way his heart was pounding against his ribcage, which Lito could feel with his bare arm, Hernando could find no humor in the way he’d been tackled onto the floor.

 

Lito lay there with his upper body naked and covered in sweat, panting from overexerting himself against Sun, and locked both his arms and his legs around Hernando, imagining that he was a giant squid that had no intention of releasing his prey. “No. I would never want that,” he murmured by Hernando’s ear, before tugging on it with his lips. “I was exercising and you startled me. I didn’t expect you to wake up so early.” He would have apologized if having Hernando’s sexy ass resting on top of his crotch wasn’t giving him the worst early morning hard-on. “Since you are now awake…” Lito grinded his overeager erection against Hernando’s ass and clamped his teeth onto his lower lip to control his reaction to how good that felt. Sparring with Sun seemed to make him just as horny as screwing up his lines in his trailer on set made him. All that worked up energy needed to go _somewhere._

 

“Lito, I’m not in the mood. And you’re covered in sweat,” Hernando protested, trying to get free.

 

“I am like a powerful mountain lion marking his territory,” Lito groaned deep in his throat, still rubbing himself firmly against Hernando while keeping his love immobile. “You are now covered in my scent and have no choice but to submit to me.”

 

“I think that you’ve been memorizing too many of those ridiculous pick-up lines that keep making their way into your scripts. I fail to see what a coquettish young maiden would find attractive about being knocked to the floor by a heaving, sweaty man covered in cuts and bruises.”

 

“Well, I guess that it’s fortunate for me that you are no coquettish young maiden,” Lito teased with a grin. “Although you could pretend to be just a little coquettish.”

 

At first, Hernando laughed at that, unable to resist Lito’s absurd sense of humor. Or Lito’s smoldering hot kisses down the back of his neck. Until his attention was drawn back to the cuts and bruises on Lito’s arms. “If you’ve only been shadowboxing, why are there scores of injuries up and down both your arms? Have you broken or damaged anything in my living room?”

 

“I would never break anything in our happy home,” Lito promised. But if Hernando continued with his line of questioning, then he would be forced to break his love’s heart by lying to him because he hadn’t come up with a suitable sensate confession just yet. _Kala…_ She had given him the perfect diversion. “You should probably go back to bed and get a few more hours of sleep,” he advised, changing the subject as smoothly as he altered his facial expressions on-screen. “And I know just the thing to help you with your restlessness.”

 

“More sex?”

 

Lito rolled Hernando onto the bottom and straddled him, pressing him face first into the carpeting – playfully, of course. He was sure that his love would not be too appreciative of swallowing a mouthful of dust on account of him. “No. I was thinking of some saffron milk tea.” Hernando tried to dislodge Lito and push himself up off of the carpeting, but Lito kept him still while he began to grind against him. “But I wouldn’t mind making love to you before I make you it,” he sighed. “Hernando, you have the most sensational ass.”

 

“Since when you do know what saffron even is?” Hernando challenged, a moan slipping through his lips when Lito reached underneath him to begin palming him through his underwear.

 

“A little bird told me.”

 

“For your sake, I hope that your _little bird_ isn’t trying to poison me because I’ve never considered putting saffron into milk.”

 

“Hernando, I’ve been thinking,” Lito mused as he grinded more aggressively against his love, enjoying the position that he had him in. “If we are now _out_ , and there is nothing left to lose, we should just enjoy the moment. Maybe go to the park, or a movie, or go shopping together. You can become my arm piece, just as you’ve always wanted. It no longer matters what anyone has to say about it.”

 

“Lito, are you actually getting off on the idea?” Hernando asked breathlessly when Lito’s hand pushed down the front of his briefs, grasped him firmly, and began to stroke him with confidence.

 

“Are you complaining about my healthy sex drive? Because you didn’t seem to have a problem with it last night,” Lito teased.

 

“No, no complaints.” Hernando whimpered when Lito pulled down the back of his briefs and began to rub against him a lot more intimately.

 

“So it’s a date then. Afterwards, I will take you to that popular café you are always raving about. We will sit close together, instead of across from each other as we usually do, and I will wrap my arm around you to let everyone know that you are my one and only true love.” Lito grunted as he grinded harder against Hernando, stroking him in time with his somewhat jerky thrusts. He desperately wanted to be _inside_ Hernando, but he would never make it over to the bedside table in time to get the lube. He was overstimulated, highly aroused, and seconds away from what was sure to be a fantastic orgasm. Moving was out of the question.

 

“ _Oh, Lito,”_ Hernando moaned, dropping his head back down onto the carpet as Lito’s words, and aggressive ministrations, began to overwhelm him.

 

“Do you know the benefits of being my arm piece?” Lito asked dryly, using his free hand to caress Hernando’s soft lips with the tip of his index finger.

 

“No. What are the benefits of such a sexist role?” Hernando teased lightly, now thrusting into Lito’s tense grip.

 

“You will have to do nothing. You won’t have to open the door for yourself or pull out your own chair. I will also select all of our dishes and do all the ordering. And I will cut up your food for you and feed you with my fork. Then I will spend the entire night endlessly complimenting your beauty.”

 

“Surely you can’t be serious,” Hernando gasped, whimpering again when Lito’s index and middle finger pushed past his lips and into his mouth. He had no choice but to suck on them as Lito’s thrusts against his bare ass sped up.

 

“That is the role of my arm piece,” Lito grunted, too caught up in the moment to laugh at Hernando’s indignant reaction to how his dates were supposed to act with him out in public. “ _Hernando_ , you are so beautiful like this,” he praised, listening to his love’s moans which were a lot softer now that his mouth was busy with Lito’s fingers. “You are always beautiful.” The warmth of Hernando’s buttocks combined with the feeling of that hot, wet tongue licking over his fingers caused Lito to thrust one more time and then come with a glorious moan of delight. He could both hear and feel Hernando moaning with him as he allowed the pleasure to take him over the edge as well.

 

After Lito was thoroughly spent, he released Hernando and struggled to his feet, pulling his track pants back up around his waist. He then picked up the tank top he had discarded at the beginning of Sun’s lesson, and used it to dry Hernando’s backside and thighs.

 

“You always seem to know what to say to make me feel better,” Hernando murmured dreamily when Lito rolled him over to begin cleaning up the carpet.

 

“I don’t think that my words were as effective as my touch,” Lito bragged with an impish smile as he crouched back down over Hernando to kiss him on the lips. “So, here is what is going to happen, my love. You are going to go back to bed to get your full seven hours of rest and, when you wake up, I will have our date all planned out.”

 

“What happened to that saffron milk tea?” Hernando questioned between kisses.

 

“You will get your saffron milk tea,” Lito promised. “After Kala gives me the recipe.”

 

“Kala? Who is Kala?” Hernando blinked up at Lito, his sleepy hazel eyes containing just a touch of suspicion behind his thick tortoiseshell glasses.

 

 _Uh oh… Way to go, Lito!_ Lito nervously grinned down at Hernando, kissed him again to stall for time, and then came up with an explanation too stupid to warrant any further questions. “She is like the goddess of healthy, spiritual eating. She lives in my head.” Which was kind of true, in a way.

 

Predictably, Hernando had nothing to say to that, so Lito just kissed him again and hoped that Kala would come back to save him from some major embarrassment in the kitchen.


End file.
